


Kissing Mountains

by ItWasIDio



Category: League of Legends
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 22:30:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19710781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItWasIDio/pseuds/ItWasIDio
Summary: Ezreal came to Mount Targon prepared to find something lifechanging, determined to climb the mountain and discover its secrets. What he didn't account for? Those secrets involving a man who defined beauty beyond belief.(I wrote this for a friend and didn't bother to edit it so don't think too hard about canon consistency or good writing and just accept its existence)





	Kissing Mountains

Mount Targon was just as steep, sparkly, and dangerous as Ezreal remembered. He hadn't been back in a while (last time's stolen artifact had the Lunari trying to kill him for MONTHS!) but now was the time to return. There was something strange here, and Jarro Lightfeather was the man to find it.

He packed 3 weeks’ worth of food and water for the climb and was wearing 5 layers of clothing. He could do this. It'd be a walk in the park compared to some of the things he'd climbed before.

With a deep breath to prepare himself, Ezreal began his climb. A few steps later, and he retracted his previous statement. He'd never climbed anything harder before. Had he scaled trees, buildings, and ruins in search of artifacts? Yeah, hundreds of times! But, he couldn't climb a single mountain.

To be fair, the mountain almost seemed to not want to be climbed with just how tall and steep it was. But, there was a way. Jarro Lightfeather had one last trick up his sleeve. And by sleeve, he meant gauntlet.

With all the focus of a ranger and skill of an explorer, he willed himself up the mountain. His gauntlet flashed, leaving behind a spark in his memory, before Ezreal opened his eyes roughly three feet higher than where he started. Better than nothing, he supposed.

...Was he crazy, or was the mountain getting taller? Maybe it was just the exhaustion setting in. He had been climbing a while… Before Ezreal could remember just how long “a while" was, the mountain went from tall to close to black. He had passed out.

Luckily, a snow-covered mountain wasn't the worst place he'd passed out at. It was definitely in the top 10, but top 3? Probably not. Ezreal was gonna be just fine.

Actually, he’d be better than fine. Hours later had him waking up in a warm bed, the sound of a crackling fire gently calling him to get up. Ezreal cracked open his eyes to find himself in a small lodge that was definitely not a cold mountain. Most of his excess clothing had been stripped off, leaving the dry underlayers still on. He was warm.

“Oh, good, you're awake.” The voice was unfamiliar but comforting, deep and almost surreal. Ezreal searched for the source, finding only one other person in the room. He looked at the man with awe, taking the sight before him in.

Now, no homo, but this was the most gorgeous man he had ever seen (and Ezreal had seen himself!). He had long, flowing brown hair that seemed to sway even in this windless lodge, a defined and beautiful body that even an Ascended would envy, and the most outrageous gem-like eyes to ever look at Jarro Lightfeather. 

“You gave me a scare, passing out on our mountain. I thought you were gone for good.” The man laughed, the sound rich and wonderful. Ezreal realized he should probably do something besides stare.

“Nothing can kill Jarro Lightfeather,” he confidently declared, sitting up tall in the bed. Ezreal considered actually getting out of the bed, but it was comfortable. Really, really comfortable.

The man walked over, holding a bowl of what looked to be soup in his hands. He handed it to Ezreal before saying, “Is that your name? Jarro Lightfeather?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Jarro Lightfeather, that's me.” Ezreal decided that maybe telling his true identity to this man wasn't a great idea. He'd go by his alias for now, then. The soup, he learned, was warm and delicious.

The man smiled, clearly knowing that he was being fed lies but not caring. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lightfeather. My name is Taric, the Aspect of the Protector.”

“Likewise, Taric. Thank you for, uh, the soup and bed and not letting me die on your mountain.”

“Not a problem at all, Jarro… Tell me, do you like gems?”

Gems? What kind of question is that? Ezreal, ever the careful explorer, responded cautiously. “That depends… Why do you want to know?”

Taric laughed in reply, beckoning for Ezreal to follow him out of the room. But, this was a seriously comfortable bed. Yet another difficult choice to be made by Jarro Lightfeather.

In the end, he decided to set aside the delicious and warm soup and leave the delicious and warm bed to follow Taric, regardless of the risk. What he found was… stunning. A room filled with gems of all shapes and sizes. They shone in the light and glittered like the finest jewels adorning Piltover’s nobility.

Ezreal slowly approached them, Taric watching from the side of the room with a warm smile on his face. He picked out a small blue one, its sparkling appearance calling out to him. Where had this man gotten all of these?

“I've had quite a while to collect them. Like my collection, then?” Taric asked, walking up to Ezreal. 

“It's alright, I guess,” Ezreal replied, nonchalant and cool as ever. Hardly even in the top 1 coolest things he had ever seen… Just barely… Okay, it was pretty freaking incredible.

Taric seemed to know what he was thinking, a prideful smile on his face. Curse this man and his beautiful smile and gem collection. Curse him.

“You know, I've been collecting these gems for years, but there's one I just can't seem to get.”

“And what's that?”

“You.” 

The bold sentence caught Ezreal off-guard, the gem in his hands almost falling to the ground. Along with Ezreal, for that matter. Taric stepped forward, effortlessly collecting him along with the gem. He put it back before pulling Ezreal up, staring into his eyes. 

Jarro Lightfeather was many things. An explorer, national hero, local legend, possibly wanted criminal but like that's up for debate, incredibly good-looking young man, and now a lovestruck fool. He leaned forward until his face was inches from Taric’s, their eyes locked together. Just one more nudge forward, and their lips would meet.

One thing Jarro Lightfeather was not? A chicken. One breath passed between the two before he moved forward, and their lips met at last. Taric’s lips were hard, cold, and wet. It was… a little unpleasant. Ezreal opened his eyes, and reality came crashing down as he pulled his lips from the mountain.

It was a dream? He looked around, assuring that he was indeed still laid out on Mount Targon. How long had he been out?

No, never mind that. Ezreal came here with a goal, and that dream may have been the last clue necessary to finding what he needed on this mountain. He got up from the cold ground and looked to the top of the mountain, the top just barely visible yet glittering brighter than any gem. 

Jarro Lightfeather knew what he was here for, and while it might not be a handsome and mysterious gem collector, it was the next best thing. He took the second step of his climb, now determined to find the secrets of this mountain. And if he happened to meet a familiar (and beautiful) figure along the way? Well, then it'd be a fair detour to make.

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler: ezreal climbs the mountain successfully and becomes the aspect of losers


End file.
